


continue to continue to pretend

by afrocurl



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Enemies to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:03:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One powerful snow storm changes the course of history, so far as she can tell.</p><p>But to high school enemies Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier, they are none the wiser until much much later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	continue to continue to pretend

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Simon and Garfunkel's "Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall".
> 
> Red, I hope that you enjoy this because you're amazing.

_Powers have been a tricky business. Especially those like mine and those like the two men who were brought together on one cold and stormy day. I had seen a thread or two before the storm that spoke of them finding a way to each other, but as the storm grew and grew, the two threads became five, became ten, became nearly all of them._

_In the end, it was the weather that told me they were destined to be, but it wasn’t as if I knew everything in their futures beyond the fact that they would end the day entwined in each other, sated and satisfied from a union that was nearly twenty years in the making._

_A gust of wind that blew two enemies into each other’s arms and turned them from enemies to lovers in the blink of an eye._

-

Of all the days that the streets had to turn into makeshift wind tunnels, today had to be the one. It made walking down 5th Avenue near Rockefeller Center more difficult than usual - though the tourists had all but scattered to their respective hotels - as all the dyed-in-the-wool New Yorkers were out and luxuriating in the “empty” streets, even as the snow fell and the winds roared between buildings. Charles huddled more deeply into his coat and pushed forward before he felt himself lose his footing in a gust of wind between buildings; his shoes were not best made for walking on snow and slush and he cursed himself for not remembering that when he left for lunch. There was a reason he normally never left the office on days like this, but Marie was out sick and he needed to eat, too.

He found himself pushed into a strong chest and heard a “Hmmpf” for good measure as if the chest was personally offended by being encroached on. The chest didn’t push him away, nor did the chest try to pull Charles closer, for which he was glad; strangers had a tendency to either give him the time of day (he preferred those people) or recognize him and all but assault him (in both good and bad ways). He had a rule about the stranger subset of Manhattan’s population that was more than a little eccentric and did his best to avoid them, for all that he could as “The Face of Xavier Bioethics and Mutant Integration”.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he tried to loosen his gloved hand from the collar of his jacket to speak like a normal person, even as the chest was in his way, obstructing more than just his hand. He tried to push away from the chest, but failed as another gust came through and made it possible for Charles to taste the fine wool of the chest’s sweater and the smoky cologne that lingered through it. Charles couldn’t tell, oddly enough, what the man was thinking, strong thick shields erected high around the man’s mind as if he had been trained by another telepath.

The chest - well, the man, Charles thought - reached for Charles’ waist and held on before he pushed back so slightly. “Xavier?” he asked.

Charles only nodded because he hadn’t even had the chance to look up into the man’s face to see who it was. But he knew that voice and he almost wished now that he had run into a stranger rather than that man. “Lehnsherr? Erik Lehnsherr?”

“The one and only,” Erik said with a lilt, as if Charles’ wasn’t familiar with the man or all the ways in which his voice had terrorized him years before.

“Imagine running into you,” Charles said, as he tried to fake pleasantries. He had horrible memories of Erik from high school; the man had made Charles’ life impossible because Erik had been the star of the swim team and Charles had chosen to give all sports three fucks - which was to say he paid them no mind - and Erik had responded with bitter spiteful barbs that almost stung. It hadn’t helped that in response Erik had also taunted Charles about the size of his house - by far the largest of any student at the school - when Charles knew that Erik had been there on a scholarship. He never admitted to being completely honest with his telepathy; after all, it was difficult to keep every thought from every person out, no matter how good Charles had been at his own personal shields and moral standards.

“Yes, imagine that,” Erik said, as if nothing bad had happened to them all those years ago. At that moment, the wind picked up again and pushed Charles back into Erik’s space, but this time Erik’s magnetism kept them moderately rooted to the ground and not blown into a snow drift. “It doesn’t look like this storm is going to let up. Do you live nearby? We shouldn’t stay out in this longer than necessary.”

Charles wanted to shake his head and turn tail; avoid any and all awkward conversations. He had done a good job of that so far by not attending any of their high school’s reunions, but it was impossible to go against what Erik had said. “I live across from the Met,” was all he said in response.

“East Harlem. You win.” Clearly Erik had no thoughts of going back to work, and Charles couldn’t blame him since it was nearly impossible to see fifteen feet in front of you. A day lost in the office wouldn’t be the end of Charles’ world, but he tried not to think too much about that as Erik moved Charles back a bit and then grabbed his hand. It felt far too warm to Charles’ mind. Instead of saying anything about it, though, Charles just pressed forward up the street towards his apartment at Erik’s insistence.

-

Even though Charles had said that he lived at the Met - a mere thirty blocks or so - it had taken them well over two hours to walk less than two miles because the storm made moving more than a few feet at a time impossible. Cursing the snow and wind as they went, Erik tried to forget everything he had ever said about Charles in high school; instead he tried to keep his mind free from all thoughts so that Charles couldn’t read anything, even if he tried. 

Of course the man - boy then - had been pretentious and up-tight, but that didn't mean that Erik hadn't found him attractive. In fact, that explained why he had always taken every opportunity to tear Charles down; he had to find something else to think about lest Charles overhear his thoughts - most of them bordering on the pornographic. It seemed that it had worked, because Charles had said nothing as they walked, not even to ask why Erik was down in that part of Midtown or why Erik had all but forced Charles away from a day’s work.

Erik had, though he was loathe to admit it to anyone else, looked for Charles at every reunion their high school had hosted since their graduation. Hoping that each time, he might be able to tell Charles what he had truly been thinking as he bullied Charles. But Charles had never appeared and Erik had had to content himself with grousing to Emma and Howlett in a corner.

Now, however, here was a chance to remedy all of his past indiscretions. Charles had remained silent as they trudged up Fifth and only when they arrived outside a large and impressive building did Charles even speak.

“He’s with me,” he said to the doorman, who said nothing as he held the door for the two of them. Erik only nodded and gave a tight smile as Charles pulled him through, as if Charles had wanted nothing more than to get away from prying eyes.

“Can’t wait to get me alone?” Erik asked, because he was not above resorting to innuendo to suggest what he wanted to do. Charles all but flung him into the elevator and pressed the PH button. The doors closed soon after and Charles looked as though he were waiting for them to do so before he said anything.

“Oh just shut it, Erik. I don’t want to fight in public. Because that’s what you want to do, right? You want to tell me again why I’m a horrible person for suggesting that mutants and humans coexist and for working on advocating and bettering mutant rights. Or do you want to complain that I’m still too rich and that I shouldn’t have ignored all you jocks?”

Charles’ face was flushed, the argument having heated his skin even more so than the warmer air of the apartment building. 

Erik wanted nothing more than to kiss Charles for his impassioned speech and so he carefully, and in the safety of the elevator, drew closer and closer to Charles’ space. “I want to do _nothing_ like that. I wanted to do this,” he said before he pulled Charles closer to him - as they had met earlier - and pressed a firm kiss to Charles’ lips. Erik felt Charles breath catch and how Charles tried to push away, but Erik moved his hands around Charles hips and kept them close.

Charles said nothing and so Erik let go just a bit, still wanting to keep Charles close. 

“You wanted to kiss me? Don’t you hate me?” Charles asked in a small voice.

“I never hated you, but I didn’t know how to tell you then that I wanted to date you,” was all Erik could say before the elevator dinged and the the doors opened into Charles’ apartment.

The apartment was not unlike what Erik had expected for Charles to own - the view from the large windows looked over the Met and into Central Park and the furniture looked expensive, but tasteful. Charles hadn’t turned to face Erik since they walked into the apartment and so Erik thought what was on his mind next.

_No witty response, Charles?_

For good measure, Charles did turn around at that and looked Erik straight in the eyes. “You hid your interest in me with insults and bullying? Are you five?” But as he spoke, Charles moved closer to Erik and all he could do was surge forward and bring his lips back to Charles’.

 _I’ve never been good with emotions_ , came through his mind as he tried to show Charles all that he had felt and all that he had wanted to do in high school; the kiss was different from their first - not only was Erik more purposeful, but he was also collapsing every shield Emma had taught him to show Charles the depth and breadth of his feelings.

This time Charles slowly responded in kind, as if Erik’s emotional confession had made its way into Charles’ mind and he had finally cottoned on to what Erik had wanted. Erik wasn’t sure if some of those emotions included any of his memories of Charles in high school: Charles dressed as if he was a schoolboy waiting to be bent over by a demanding professor; Charles’ impassioned debates that forced Erik into the john for a quick and frenzied wank between classes; Charles’ face after each and every one of Erik’s tirades and how much Erik wanted to kiss away the pain he had caused.

Charles pulled back after what felt like not nearly long enough and breathily said, “I had no idea.”

“I hid it well?” he asked before he went back to kissing the corner of Charles’ mouth before moving to his neck and all but biting Charles with his fervor. 

_You did. Who taught you how to do that?_ Charles mentally asked, though Erik wanted to avoid answering the question until after he had had his chance to taste Charles.

 _Later_ , he added before he sucked at the hollow of Charles’ neck and collarbone. Charles moaned at the move and tried to find his own footing to take Erik apart in turn.

-

“So let me get this straight: Emma, at thirteen, saw your feelings for me and taught you to shield so I wouldn’t know? And told you to replace all your rather elaborate thoughts with hurtful ones?” Charles tried to ask as nicely as possible, because he knew that this had the potential to be a huge landmine. They were laid out against the floor, after making out for what felt like ages. Erik was curled around Charles’ side, warmth radiating off his skin as well as Charles’ own.

Erik simply nodded before he went back to trailing his fingers against Charles’ heated skin, sending shivers of pleasure across his skin as Erik went. He felt pleasantly flush after they had made out like the teenagers they no longer were, but there was still far too much to be said between the two of them before Charles was certain that everything could be okay.

“I’m not proud of it, but it happened. I kept hoping that you’d come to a reunion so I could make amends.” Erik’s hand were still eager, as if he were trying to make up for so much lost time, and Charles tried to keep himself from letting out a breathy reply.

“And I,” Charles started just before Erik nibbled at his earlobe, “never went to one because I didn’t want to take your scorn still. You made me hate school, you know.” He felt as if they had kept missing each other, caught in some elaborate bait and switch over the years. But now, with truths laid bare, there was a chance for something to happen.

Erik nodded again when he finished, and Charles thought he could sense how much Erik hated himself for all that even if Erik was now broadcasting a smug satisfaction at finally getting Charles.

“So we were both idiots?” Erik asked. As if that would solve any and all of the problems that still lay between them.

As if he'd been having no effect on Charles at all.

“I suppose we might have been, but it would have been better had someone else told me you secretly liked me.” Charles might not have been a social butterfly, but he had friends then who would have told him. He also realized that if someone had told him, he could have had Erik’s attention before as Charles could tell that Erik was doing his best to make Charles happy now.

“I told Emma I’d strangle her with the frame of her wrought-iron bed and I promised Howlett he’d never have his metal claws come out again if they told you.”

Charles chuckled at both mental images, even if he hadn’t seen much of Erik’s powers since high school. “You could do that then?”

“I could and I still can. Keeps ‘em quiet.” As if to prove the point about his mutation, Erik floated over a number of forks and knives, making them dance as they travelled from the kitchen to the living room.

“But what if I don’t want to be quiet?” Charles asked, feeling bolder now that he knew that finding Erik attractive was not going to spell a death sentence as he thought it might have in high school. Erik was still as fit as he was in high school, and all that earlier enthusiasm on Erik’s part wasn’t exactly a turn-off right now. 

Erik gave Charles a too-wide smile before he tried to all but devour Charles’ throat - bites and nips everywhere Erik could reach.

 _I’ll never want you to be quiet_ , he said before he stopped paying attention to Charles’ neck and moved back to Charles’ lips.

Charles, happily, gave into Erik’s kisses and responded in kind - searching for the spot on Erik’s neck where Charles’ hand could do the most damage as he gave into the battle with Erik’s tongue. 

For a while Charles could say nothing, his mouth so busy with Erik’s, but as Erik had been busy trying to figuratively eat Charles alive, Charles felt one of Erik’s hands slide lower and lower before cupping Charles' growing erection.

 _I won’t be quiet if you keep that up,_ Charles said as he felt himself growing more and more eager for whatever else Erik had in mind.

 _I didn’t expect you to._ Charles’ belt unbuckled itself and soon Charles completely forgot about why he and Erik had never done this before.

-

_Powers have been a tricky business. Blindness, bitterness and jealousy can blind the minds of men to their true desires._

_Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier were two of the most powerful mutants who had been searching for so long for something that neither of them had truly wanted. One terrible snow storm changed that, and changed the world for the betterment of mutantkind._

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta and another friend for some careful hand holding.


End file.
